


Miracle Aligner

by essexdogs



Category: Blur, British Singers RPF
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, M/M, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-03 21:02:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13349463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/essexdogs/pseuds/essexdogs
Summary: Graham and Damon were the victims of normal lives. Lives that were filled with daily routines that most likely revolved around their teenage daughters, and a headache that followed them to bed; until they met each other.





	Miracle Aligner

 

Damon woke up to the chirping birds that were almost completely muted by the ring of his alarm clock. The red digital text read seven am, making him groan as he wiped away the sleep from his eyes. With a slight stumble, he made his way out of his sunken bed and shuffled out of his room toward the doorway of his daughter's room, Missy.

With a knock he shouted out her name, making sure there were no surprises when he entered. He couldn’t remember a time where he was more yelled at than when he entered her room without warning.

He was greeted by her tousled body almost hanging off of the bed with her mouth ajar and eyes closed. He placed a hand on her shoulder to shake her awake, her body tensing back as she realized what was happening.

“Missy, get up. You’re gonna be late again”

“Hmph. Five more minutes.” She mumbled, curling herself into a ball and turning to the other side of the bed.

”If you don’t get up now, I’m not driving you and you’ll have to walk the two miles.” Damon told her, walking out of her room once he was done. He had recently learned the tactics Missy would use to minusculely manipulate him to get her way, and he wasn’t having any of it anymore. They both needed to grow up.

He began the routine he had every morning; taking too long of a shower, putting on clothes that made him far too uncomfortable, and lazily brushing his teeth and hair. He would check on Missy once again before heading downstairs to make breakfast. This morning Missy took his threat seriously and was in the kitchen just as Damon placed the eggs he had made onto the two plates he had set in front of him. 

They ate in silence besides the small talk Damon would try, asking how she slept and what she had planned for school that day. Each question would be answered by single worded replies as Missy scarfed down her breakfast as fast as she could.

The drive to school would be more of the same, except for the radio canceling out the silence. Once pulling up to the front of the school Damon yelled out a goodbye that was greeted with a slam of the car door. Missy was at the age where she would rather drop dead than be caught talking to her father out in public.

Damon arrived to work just shy of nine o’clock, letting him grab a cup of coffee before the interns took the last of it. There was a spring in his step as he made his way to his desk, recently the smallest things had brought a smile to his face.

The smile quickly faded as a stack of reports piled his desk, and nagging co-workers flocked to him. By lunchtime, he was already worn out and watched as the clock ticked painfully slow. 

He wouldn't say he hated his job, but he definitely wouldn't mind a different one. Being stuck in a bleak room with the only the sounds of phones ringing and the taps of computer keyboards would get anyone down.

Once it finally reached five Damon let out a sigh, massaging the palm of his left hand after the nine hours of use it had endured. Packing away his things he left the office floor, saying goodbye to no one.

He rerouted his way back to Missy's school by the time the sun was peeking out from the horizon, giving the sky an orange hue. He usually made her ride the bus home but as the days grew shorter and the air became colder Missy's school insisted on having a winter concert for the band and orchestra, ultimately making her stay after school more and more. With the buses not running, he would be a shit father if he didn't insist on picking her up after work.

The small room was packed with students and parents scurrying around to find cases and instruments. He had gotten there just in time to find Missy pack away her flute while chatting with a girl that looked to be around her age. He saw her laugh at something the other girl had said, which made his eyes light up. The last time Missy had laughed at one of her jokes had definitely been before puberty.

"That one yours?" A voice from behind Damon had asked.

"Missy, Yeah." He answered as he saw Missy make her way towards him, the blonde girl trailing next to her.

"Hey Dad. Pepper's coming over this weekend to spend the night." Missy said, going straight to the point.

"Hello to you too. My day was wonderful! Thanks for asking." Damon replied sarcastically. "That's fine. Are her parents ok with it?"

"Sounds good to me." Damon followed the same voice this time by turning around, met with a skinny man with browline glasses and dark hair.

The first thing Damon noticed was how the man's lips were tucked under one another in a nervous fashion. The rest of him had a confident glow, his arm wrapped around the blonde girl Missy was talking to earlier. He felt a sharp nudge at his side, making him notice that he was the reason for the long pause in the conversation. 

He extended his hand out to greet the other father. "I'm Damon, don't think we've met." 

"I think I would have remembered. Graham." Graham said with a smile, reaching to meet Damon's hand. "Saturday good with you? I can drop Pepper off." 

Damon cleared his throat. "I'll be free in the evening. 'Round dinner time is perfect." 

Graham nodded, giving Damon a wave goodbye as he pulled Pepper away from talking to Missy any longer. Damon watched as the two of them walked away with Graham's arm still slung over his daughter's shoulder, the two of them participating in a joyous conversation. 

He hadn't even noticed Missy had left the room without him.

 

That night Damon laid in bed, unable to get to sleep. He tossed and turned restlessly, replaying the moment he had picked up Missy. The most troubling thing about it was that he had no idea why. He hadn't known Pepper or her father for more than five minutes, and yet he couldn't get them out of his mind. The way Graham was so comfortable with his teenage daughter and his poise he had around him. He radiated calmness but had made Damon extremely anxious. 

Finally, forcing himself up from his queen sized bed he found himself in his kitchen heating up milk in his kettle. It was an adolescent technique, but as he grew older he found it more and more soothing. 

Just as he was about to pour the liquid into a mug he heard footsteps coming down the stairwell. Missy presented herself by popping her head around the corner, an innocent look on her face.

"Now what are you doing up?" Damon's voice wasn't scolding but teasing.

"Can't sleep." Her voice was small.

"That makes two of us." Damon reached into the cupboard grabbing an extra mug and poured each of them a glass. He placed the milk on the kitchen table, Missy taking a seat next to him.

"Anything bothering you?" Damon tried. 

Missy's face twisted into a wince. "I have a few tests coming up...I was studying and I can't seem to figure any of it out." 

Damon looked at the clock sitting on the counter which read well past two in the morning. "Now I know why you can never wake up in the morning." He said with a breathy laugh.

"This is serious Dad! My future is on the line." 

"Ok, ok sorry. What matters is that you're working towards what you want— good grades yeah? That's what will take you far in life."

Missy crossed her arms with a huff. "I wish my teachers felt the same." She mumbled.

From Damon's knowledge, Missy had never had trouble with getting grades that were above average. She'd always been smart, he didn't know who he got it from. What was even crazier was that she was asking him for advice.

"Maybe ask around if there are tutors available. I could even take a go at it if you want." He proposed. She probably wouldn't get any help from him, but it was worth a shot.

She nodded her head as she took a sip of the milk. "Why are you up then?"

Damon's mind raced with answers he could tell Missy. He couldn't outwardly say that he was thinking about her friend's dad, she already thought he was weird. 

"Stress." 

Missy nodded her head. "I've been there." 

Damon couldn't help but smile, even if they were bonding over their troubles he was glad that they could do it together. 

"Tomorrow's a new day, we can try and make it better than today by actually getting some rest." Damon said, getting up from his place at the table and grabbing the two mugs. He barely touched his milk.

"Night, Dad." Missy called out as she ran up the stairs while Damon was running water over the dishes. 

The next morning Damon woke with crust in the corner of his eyes from the lack of sleep he received. He managed to fall asleep after talking to Missy finally, but that resulted in him getting less than five hours of sleep. He always had trouble waking up, he was a man who needed eight or more hours to actually feel alive.

He knocked on Missy's door, surprised to hear a commotion coming from the other side. Before he had a chance to twist the knob, she opened the door herself. 

"Morning, I'm up." Was all she said before shutting the door again.  

He would be mad about her shutting a door in his face, but this was a first for Missy. He didn't know what had gotten into her, as long as she started listening to him he didn't care too much.

The day was similar as the rest of the week had been, except today was Friday. At his desk Damon fantasized about the extra sleep he was going to get this weekend and the television shows he was going to continue.

He then remembered the sleepover he had agreed to, hoping the girls wouldn't be too much of a trouble. He wished he would have proposed it to be at Pepper's house, Damon hadn't had a night to himself in what seemed like over a decade. It was probably close to that.

He left earlier than usual, trying to beat traffic. He tried his best to hide in his oversized coat, but as he was nearly to the doors his boss caught him.

"In a rush, Albarn?"

Damon's boss was less than pleasant. He was younger than him too, which made it ten times worse. His boss found joy in making Damon's life miserable, at least he was convinced he did. 

"Heard the roads were gonna get icy, don't want to be caught in that _and_ rush hour." 

"I don't think any of us want that, do you see anyone else leaving early?"

"I just saw—" 

"Have you got everything that needs to be done today finished?" 

"All the reports should be in your email, sir and—"

"Don't forget I need you to talk to Markus about the raise he keeps nagging me about, but I suppose you can do that Monday. Don't say I've never done anything for you!" His boss said, humbly.

"Thank you, sir. Have a nice weekend." Damon told him as he walked away before Damon had finished. 

The entire way to his car in the parking garage Damon was mutter indecencies under his breath. He was probably going to get caught in the height of traffic now because of his boss, thanks to the pointless encounter.

He was still able to make it to Missy's school on time without a minute to spare. He found Missy outside of the band room with her case in hand.

"I'm not late are I?" 

"Just got out a little earlier today. It'd be cool if you could show up a few minutes before you're supposed to pick me up, just in case." She said.

"Tell me about it." Damon mumbled.

They drove back in silence, they had talked a weeks worth the previous night. Missy blasted the radio, some top 40 song that Damon actually didn’t hate.

Without a word, Missy bolted up the staircase and into her room. Damon snickered to himself; they get along but she’s still simply a teenage girl.

Damon proceeded to make dinner that night, knowing that he’ll most likely order pizza tomorrow. He liked to say he was quite skilled in the kitchen, even if the standard for a father was to know how to make a sandwich or read the instruction on boxed mac and cheese. He wanted Missy to actually have dinners that weren’t microwaved or made by someone else.

 It was also a sort of therapy for him, structured alone time was his favorite. The fulfillment he got when the dish turned out exactly how it was supposed to be, sometimes even exceeded his expectations was the best feeling Damon could think of.

Tonight he made baked ziti with fresh mozzarella he got from the family-owned market down the road. They knew him by name now.

Missy scarfed it down like she hadn’t eaten in weeks.

“That good eh?”

“Just hungry.” She muttered with a mouth filled with food.

“It’s pretty good, too.” She told him once she had finished her bite. Damon beamed, he thought so too.

The rest of the evening Damon kept to himself downstairs while Missy was locked away in her room. He flipped through the channels on the television to find something to watch, nothing captivating him. He was finally defeated the second time he had scanned through all of them. He was in bed by nine.

He wasn't asleep though, he stared up at his ceiling that he had memorized a thousand times. It sometimes took him hours to fall asleep, but those were only the bad nights.

Anxious wasn't the word he felt when he thought about tomorrow. He couldn't remember the last time someone had come over to his house. Missy always slept over at her friends and whenever Damon made plans it was somewhere public. He only noticed this recently, it's not like he goes out of his way for people to not visit him in his own home. He just found it odd. He just wanted Missy and her friend to have a good time, and he didn't know how much of a part of it he should be. Knowing her, she'll probably shoo him away right after the pizza guy left. 

The last time he looked at his clock it was past midnight, and the next thing he knew it was daylight. The birds chirped from outside his open window as if they were his natural alarm clock. 

He fixed himself a cup of tea, relishing in the stressfree environment he still had as he read the paper in his pajamas. The next few hours were going to be him deep cleaning the entire house.

His house wasn't a mess by any means, but it wasn't the cleanest. He did his dishes and he did clean up after himself but besides that, he didn't do much around the house. 

After his tea he got into some sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt and got to work. He started by dusting the counters in the living room, including the blinds. He then vacuumed everywhere in the house after he picked up any stray objects. He scrubbed the bathrooms until he could see his reflection in the porcelain, and he most certainly didn't touch Missy's room, that was an entirely different project.

By the time he was finished over half of the day had passed. He only had enough time to get out of his dirty clothes and clean _himself_ up. 

They were a bit early, Damon had barely finished putting on a fresh shirt when he heard the doorbell ring. His hair was still wet.

He walked down the staircase to the door but almost lost his footing by Missy rushing down the staircase next to him. He shouted out as she basically flung herself to the door so she would get there before him.

He walked up behind her, greeted by the same duo he had seen days earlier. All he was able to catch from Missy was 'room' and the two girls scurried back up the staircase. 

"Hope the two of them aren't too big of a hassle tonight." Graham told him.

Graham wore a light evergreen jacket over a red and black striped shirt with grey jeans on. He looked so much more put together than Damon, he only wearing a grey t-shirt along with blue jeans.

"Don't have to worry about it. If I can handle one of 'em I think I'll be able to handle two." 

Graham raised a six pack of beer that he had been holding. "Brought these along, we could share them if you'd like." 

Damon smiled. He had spent all day cleaning he hadn't even thought of what he might do to drown out the high pitched yells that two teenage girls could produce. 

"I'd be glad to." He gestured for Graham to come inside. 

Damon watched as he looked around, trying to read his expression. He didn't have the nicest of homes, but he made it work. He even installed a flat screen television on his wall all by himself.

"Nice place you got here." Graham quipped. 

"Not too shabby." Damon replied as he led Graham into the kitchen. Graham placed the beer on the counter, taking one out for himself and Damon. 

Damon told him thank you as he took out his phone from his back pocket. "What do you like on your pizza?" 

"I'm not too picky. Can never go wrong with pepperoni." Graham told him as he unscrewed the cap of his drink and took a sip.

Damon proceeded to order too much pizza for the four of them, and managed to see a glimpse of the two girls in the process. They muttered their thank yous and scurried back to their original location.

"Is your daughter always this seclusive or is it just mine?" Damon asked Graham with a mouth full of pizza.

"Unfortunately, yes." Graham laughed.

The two of them were seated across from one another at the kitchen table, finishing off their first slice. 

"So, Damon, what do you do?"

Damon's mind went blank for a moment, the question was broad. He didn't understand if Graham had meant in his free time, or his—

"As a job, at first." Graham added.

"Oh uh, human resources."

"Seems a bit boring." 

"It is." 

That made Graham laugh. He didn't know why but Damon wanted to make sure he heard more of it.

"And how about you?" Damon asked.

"I'm an art administrator. Basically do all of the business-y stuff around auctions and a few art galleries." 

Damon was a bit stunned, but he knew he shouldn't have been. Graham had given off an artistic aura, something about how he presented himself made him seem more cultivated than others.

"Seems like a hell of a lot more interesting than what I do." 

"It's honestly nothing special. My job is more or less like yours." Graham took another sip.

They spent the evening like this, asking questions, going back and forth with answers, and then moving onto the next topic. Time flew when Damon was with Graham, he could spend days picking at his brain.

They found out that they both used to be in a rock band back in college, but nothing really came about it. They have similar interests, like biking and music tastes, both of them agreeing that David Bowie was the one to beat. 

Damon found himself captivated by Graham's words, hanging onto each and every one of them. It didn't matter if it had no significance to him or he didn't agree, he genuinely wanted to hear what Graham was saying.

Before they knew it, it was well past eleven and they had finished the beers hours ago. Missy and Pepper had routinely came back downstairs for more pizza and by the end of the night, they had successfully finished one of the boxes. 

"I better get going." Graham told him as he slowly got up from where he was sitting and stretched. 

Damon wanted to plead for him to stay, it was a childish thought. They had talked for over four hours; they had spent plenty of time together already.

He begrudgingly walked him to the door, stopping when Graham turned around.

They were unbearably close, with Graham pressed to the door. Damon could feel Graham's warm breath on his face, he being only inches apart. 

"We should do this again sometime." Graham's voice was like honey.

Damon was lost for words. Of course he wanted to but the way Graham delivered the statement just made him more confused.

Within seconds Graham swung open the door that was behind him creating a bigger gap between them.

"Thanks for letting me hang around. I'll pick Pepper up around noon. You know those girls won't be going to bed at a decent time." He said, as if the moment before hadn't happened at all. Damon began to question if it was all in his head. 

"Yeah..No problem." Was all Damon managed to get out before Graham turned away and made a beeline to his car. Damon watched him as he backed out of the driveway and drove away with a dazed look on his face. 

Closing the door behind him he pressed his back to it like Graham had moments before and tucked his head into his hands. He needed a cold shower.

**Author's Note:**

> yall know this an AU because damon can drive in it LMAO


End file.
